AA Gifts & Baskets Idea Blog

Archive for November, 2007

It had been a long day. One of those days in which appointments seemed to overlap with one another, blending together until I was no longer certain to whom I had said what. The lunch hour had come and gone without my noticing, and now, as I arrived home, my stomach was talking loudly. Dinner would be well appreciated tonight.

We recently remodeled our kitchen and the outlet for the new stovetop exhaust fan is next to the driveway. As I drove toward the garage in back, the aroma of the evening meal wafted through my open window. My wife is a culinary wizard and, even after five years of marriage, the variety of dishes she whips up for a single meal still boggles my mind.

However, my eyes widened and my jaw dropped when I entered the kitchen. Dr. Seuss himself couldn’t have imagined a more bizarre sight. Suzanne is a speed cook. There’s no better description. She throws together a mouthwatering four-course meal in less than twenty minutes. Tonight, as usual, the table looks great. But the kitchen is a disaster zone. A vast array of pots and pans of all sizes are soaking in a sink full of cold, greasy water. All measuring cups and spoons have been taken from their usual hiding places and strewn along the counter. Never mind only two were required-they were all pulled down. A fine dusting of flour covers the entire kitchen, and the cooktop and much of the counter glisten with a film of splattered grease. The can opener has drippings on it and all of the countertop machines-mixer, toaster, coffee maker, and so on-are coated with the same flour and grease. The uplifting effects of the marvelous aroma quickly fade as I feel depression setting in. Suzanne has outdone herself this evening. Our underlying marital agreement, which keeps our lives running smoothly (relatively speaking), is that each of us capitalizes on our strengths and, in turn, helps compensate for the other’s weaknesses. Hence, Suzanne cooks (compensating for the absence of a skill I should have developed more fully during my bachelor days) and I… well, I clean.

Opposites attract, or so I’ve heard. But, once attracted, can they really survive their differences? I’m a very clean cook. Yet my meals are as unimaginative as the kitchen is clean when I’m finished. I try to show Suzanne how to cook with less mess. It doesn’t sink in. She, in turn, tries to speed me up (I cook like a mother turtle). Also, to no avail. We’re not going to change each other’s ingrained means of operation. Not that we won’t continue to try, with a faint glimmering hope that someday I’ll move faster and she’ll clean as she cooks. But for now…

She looks up with an apologetic smile. “I’ll help,” she offers.

“What’s for supper? Sure smells good,” I reply.

We take our usual walk this morning, although when I wake up I don’t want to move. The dry desert winds stir up my allergies and I feel listless, out of sorts. Staring at my red-rimmed eyes and dry, grooved face as I brush my teeth doesn’t help the mood. My hair, standing on end, refuses to be brushed into obedience.

Worse, my knees hurt. I feel like the Tin Woodman in The Wizard of Oz that needed a shot of lubricating oil to get going. The connection of knees – father in wheelchair flashes unhappily in my mind. This was how he lost his independence. He couldn’t rely on his knees to walk or drive safely.

“I’m not my father,” I say to myself firmly. And more softly, tears just back of my eyes, “Oh, how I miss you, Dad.”

“Let’s go, darling!” my husband’s bright, cheery voice booms from the other room. He speaks loudly, to be heard over the morning news program. I want to go back to bed in silence.

David never takes silence for an answer. Knowing me well, he appears in the bedroom doorway to see if I’m dressed and over my rebellion. He resembles an overgrown boy in his turquoise whale sweatshirt (how could I ever have bought it?), bright red pants, mismatched socks, and run-down running shoes. “You’ll feel much better once you get going,” he says and kisses me.

His kisses always work magic, even when they’re illogically timed.

“Okay,” I mumble, giving in quickly, knowing he’s right.

At our front door we turn left into the ocean breeze, lured by a view of the sea at the end of the street. We pass some teenagers hurrying to get to school in time for their first classes. Pete stops suddenly, grabs my hands, and kisses me. We both giggle. I imagine that any student who sees us thinks we’re absurd-two antique creatures in baggy sweats in an embrace.

I feel lucky and blessed and embarrassed, all at once, ready to walk the earth with this man who rarely fails to delight me. Ready to do anything not to have my body go out on me, like the old woman we saw yesterday, frail and dried as an old leaf, clinging to a building for support, stopping for rest before she went on. He’s right. I need the exercise to get my mental and physical kinks out.

We walk to the park bordering the beach, lost in our own thoughts. “See you at

,” he says and begins to jog slowly, still-muscular legs as sturdy as ever, belly an unwelcome, perhaps permanent, visitor.

All the things I wanted to change in him now seem curiously appealing-his passion for golf, his sloppy habits, and his invariable optimism. Golf gives him exercise, friendship, and fresh air and helps him slug back at business frustration, and I’d rather pick up after him than have him be a nitpicker, railing at me for being sporadically messy. I know he’ll never change. I don’t want him to anymore. We are what we are, and somehow my occasional pessimism and his optimism are the perfect dancers, bridging the changing rhythms of life. And he’s more thoughtful than ever, in all the important ways.

Where did all the-years go? Gone, leaving us photographs on the family wall and a residue of the silver stardust that is love.

We meet again at
Willow, our favorite street. “Do you still want a home here?” he asks, as though we aren’t backed to the wall financially, as though we aren’t in debt, as though the recession never happened.

“No,” I answer, as if the choice is real. “I don’t want a house anymore. I feel more secure in our condo because I’m not afraid to be alone when you’re out of town. It’s just right for the two of us.”

“We could get a dog again,” he smiles. “A big Saint Bernard, just like Reggie.” I think of the rainy night in 1979, when I could no longer deny that our marriage was in deep trouble. We were lying on the den floor in our tract home, Reggie happily curled between us. A soft porn movie came on and he petted the dog languidly, never thinking of reaching out for me. I remember the ache of being unwanted, of getting up silently and going to bed without washing my face, pretending I was asleep when he came in. When I’m upset, I don’t pretend anymore. I talk about it. I don’t have the patience to wait. I’ve learned that much. The more honest I am, the less seems to come up.

The street slopes imperceptibly uphill, but my lungs want more air than I can take in and I fall behind his brisk pace. He turns, missing me.

“I’m not too speedy this morning,” I pant. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“No. I don’t ever want to leave you behind,” he says and slows to take my hand and kiss me tenderly.

Memory wants to accuse him: “But you did leave me! You did! Don’t you remember? Can you block out everything?” Why can’t I do this? It would make life so much easier.

I stop the downward spiral of the blame game. That stage is over. I have nothing to worry about now but time. We’re here for each other in a way we never were before, when we glossed over our differences to preserve the image of the perfect marriage. Here we are, wrinkles, bellies, and all, laughing more than ever at the foibles we no longer try to change.

I reach up like a young bride to touch his face, the curve of his cheek, and tilt my face to kiss him. I think I’d rather be here, right now, right this moment, feeling this way, than be young again with perfect knees. I laugh at the unspoken joy that bubbles up, and he looks at me and says appreciatively, “Does any couple laugh as much as we do?” He slides his right hand under the band of my sweatpants, grabbing my behind, knowing I never wear underpants on our walks for exactly this moment.

“No couple I know,” I respond. “My behind is getting so much smaller” We both laugh again at my forty-year battle with a flabby butt.

“I can hardly find it,” he says, so sincere I almost believe him.

We walk on, a little slower now. His thoughts, I can tell, are on business.

Mine linger on children, grandchildren, and marriage. How many marriages are stronger after a separation? Ours is. Eleven years ago we parted, at his request. He had fallen in love with a younger woman, an employee. We were apart for a year and a half, and I thought I’d never recover from the pain and the anger and the loss of him, but I did. I learned to appreciate myself when I didn’t have him to please. Best lesson I ever learned.

So it has come to this: Noticing thoughts fly through my mind like a flock of birds. I choose this one and that, not feeling their prisoner-most of the time. Noticing we’re in the fall of our lives, amazed that spring and summer have gone… wondering when winter will come.

The most profound shock in a parents’ life may be learning that his or her child has a handicap.  All the hopes and dreams for the future of that child suddenly seem hollow and empty.

Parents often feel terribly depressed and grief stricken.  It is as if the child they knew had died and a strange child has been left in his place.  Sometimes parents feel guilty and blame themselves for the handicap.  They feel it is a result of something they did, or did not do, or they feel they should have recognized the problem sooner.  They feel they have somehow failed as parents.

Often parents feel angry with their pediatrician or the professionals who tell them the diagnosis.  They may feel that the medical profession, which they had put such faith in, has failed them.  Parents may also discover they have negative feelings about handicaps in general or their child’s handicap in particular.

All these feelings are normal. But they are hard to deal with and hard to live with.

As parents struggle with their own reactions of shock and disappointment, they may find that their normal support systems fail because friends and family are also struggling to cope with their feelings of concern.  Parents may find themselves vulnerable to and resentful of advice and comments offered by friends, relatives, and self-styled experts.  Parents often suddenly find themselves overwhelmed by information they are trying to understand and by decisions they feel must be made immediately.

Initially parents may not be able to absorb all the information that is being given to them.  They may be worried about the effect of the handicap on other children in the family and deeply concerned about their ability to relate to the handicapped child.

It may be helpful to talk to someone with experience in dealing with these emotions, someone who can help you sort out your feelings and recognize your responsibilities.  Your religious leader, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or another trained counselor may be helpful.  Many parents find the greatest relief and comfort in talking to other parents who have lived through similar experiences.  Parents should not try to ignore or hide their grief.  In time the pain will lesson.

For some parents, the best tonic is taking action on behalf of their child, whether it is enrolling her in a therapy program or a school, talking to a specialist about prosthetic devices [an artificial limb, a wheelchair, or a hearing aid], or contacting a national organization for more information.

You will be looking at your child with new eyes, and in the beginning that can be difficult and painful.  You will be establishing a new relationship with this child, different than what you planned and expected.  But it can be a relationship that is fulfilling and rewarding as you work with your child to discover her full potential.

It seems that my feelings and ideas about marriage are a function of where I am emotionally, psychologically, financially. Although I thought I had loved, and in a way did love, my first husband, the quality and nature of our love was substantially different from the love I feel now, in my middle years. The predominant recollection I have about my first marriage is that it was a comfortable, safe, and, I thought upon entering it, loving backdrop against which I planned to live out the other aspects of my life.

I always had certain prerequisites for the man I would marry. My choice for my first marriage met these criteria. At the time I was naive and had little, if any, experience as a single woman. I went from my father’s house into the arms of a protective college environment and from there directly into a marriage home. In retrospect I can see we were two innocents who were mismatched. We had different expectations and needs and, unfortunately, never had the opportunity to resolve or even discuss or work them out.

I wish I could claim credit for a brilliant choice of husband this time around, but the truth is that he is a random gift from God. I think second marriages can be storybook situations. The first time, because I was younger, it was easy to drift away from the focus of the marriage. With maturity, financial stability, and grown children, it’s possible for me, with will and discipline, to tend the relationship. Despite the complications we experience with blending our families, this marriage is more manageable, under most circumstances, than my first marriage, with its tugs and pulls.

There is another element: my husband and I share a high degree of physical passion, and our need and desire, along with the pleasure we gain from physical contact, affirm that our lust is alive and well. This was totally absent from my side of the equation in my first marriage. People have different opinions about the importance of physical connection in relation to a joyful union. Now I can compare my more passive first experience with the true visceral connection we share in this marriage.

Our passion gives us intimacy, a privateness in our relationship. This bond is for the two of us, and only the two of us, and I don’t think it can come from anywhere else. So much results from our intimate connection, such as respect and my desire to give pleasure to my husband emotionally as well as physically. I do for him because the pleasure I get in providing for him is my payback.

Playgrounds and pools are places for recreation and relaxation.  But the laughter can easily turn to tears and tragedy.  A two year old follows his older brother to the top of a ten foot high slide, slips while trying to sit on the top, and falls to the ground, breaking his leg.  A one year old topples over the edge of the wading pool-luckily, an observant lifeguard rescues her.  Knowing what the hazards are at playgrounds and pools and teaching your children hoe to play and swim appropriately can ensure a safe outing.

Playgrounds

Playground equipment is ranked sixth on a list of one hundred hazardous consumer products published by the Consumer Product Safety Commission. Each year, 155,000 children are injured on playgrounds.  On public playgrounds sixteen percent of those injured are under five years old; on home playgrounds, twenty-one percent are under five.

Younger children are likely to be injured on the playground because of their stage of development.  They are compelled to investigate.  They won’t be satisfied at the bottom of the slide-they need to see the top, too.  But physically, they are not coordinated enough to do what they want.  In addition, they can’t project the consequences of their actions; they never anticipate falling off.

Slides, in fact, are one of the most hazardous pieces of playground equipment.  Other pieces of equipment to watch out for include swings, climbing structures [such as “monkey bars”], and seesaws.

Most children are injured by falling.  Seventy-five percent of playground injuries are from falls to the ground or onto other equipment.  Fifty percent of these result in head and neck injuries.  The most serious injuries occur when children fall onto concrete or asphalt rather than on a more yielding surface such as sand.  Falls can also result in fractures and lacerations.

Children can be injured in other ways as well.  They may be hit by moving equipment or cut by rough or sharp edges, or they may become stuck in the equipment.

The Consumer Product Safety Commission has established voluntary product safety standards for home and public playgrounds.  These include equipment specifications and suggestions for everything from the type of base surface to use to design and arrangement of the play area.  The standards also stress that safe playgrounds require adequate supervision and maintenance as well as good design.

It is essential to teach your children how to behave at the playground and to supervise their activities.  Teach your children to hold onto all equipment with both hands.  Teach them to stop before getting of any moving equipment.  Teach them to sit on the swings and slides, not stand, lie, or hang upside down.  Only one person should be allowed to use playground equipment at a time.  Be sure they don’t push or shove and that they walk well away from areas where other children are swinging or sliding.  Be sure the equipment your child plays on matches her ability.  A ten year old can easily climb a jungle gym, for example, but a two year old shouldn’t follow suit.  Teach your children to use equipment as the manufacturer intended.  For instance, children should swing on the swings, not twist around.

There is a growing public awareness of environmental hazards.  Although little research has been done on the subject, playgrounds may pose subtle dangers.  Some parks have been built on previously contaminated landfills.  Others, especially those near freeways, may have high lead levels from automobile fumes.  Some playgrounds surrounded by open land are sprayed with pesticides.  Other playgrounds have wooden equipment that has been treated with wood preservatives or painted with lead based paint.  Better planning by and playground owners and greater parental awareness could reduce the risks posed by such toxic chemicals.

Pools

When most people think of pool related injuries, they think of drowning and water aspiration.  Drowning is the second most cause of accidental deaths in children, and the third most common in children aged one to four.  Two thirds of the victims are non-swimmers.

Diving injuries also occur and can be very serious.  However, older children and adolescents account for most of these.  In younger children, falls and cuts are common-children slip on wet surfaces.

Toddlers are at particularly high risk for drowning.  Their size makes even a small amount of water hazardous.  In addition, they are often unsteady and fall easily, and they seldom know how to swim.

The key, then, to preventing drowning is to teach your children how to swim.  Toddler swimming lessons have been controversial, but they can be worthwhile-especially if the disadvantages to them are understood.  Children who have had some form of swimming lessons are only one half as likely to need some type of assistance in the pool as children with no training.  Also, toddlers who start swimming earlier are more likely to become competent swimmers as adults.

The biggest disadvantage to toddler swimming lessons is that afterward parents believe the child is water-safe and don’t watch her as carefully as they might if there had been no lessons.  Although your child may be more comfortable in the water after taking swimming lessons, she really can’t swim well, nor can she be expected how to react to emergencies.

Infant swimming lessons have other drawbacks.  Prolonged lessons have been associated with water intoxication.  Therefore, the YMCA recommends prohibiting forced submersion and limiting in-water time to thirty minutes.  In addition, when children are still in diapers, it becomes difficult to maintain the effectiveness of the pool’s chlorination. There have been reports of epidemics of diarrheal diseases from infant swimming classes.

Besides swimming lessons, there are other precautions that may help prevent pool accidents.  Fences and self-locking gates around public and private pools may prevent a toddler from toppling in while unattended.  Adequate supervision from both parents and lifeguards is a necessity.  Children should be taught to follow rules in the pool area, such as no running and no diving in shallow water.  Finally, use lifejackets on young children who don’t know how to swim, but don’t become complacent-life jackets too, can fail.

Similarly, bear in mind that inner tubes, air mattresses and other flotation devices are for fun only, and must not be trusted in deep water, or if your child is out is out of sight.  Toys break, inflatables’ deflate.  Don’t place your child in unnecessary peril by trusting such devices.

By their very nature, playgrounds and pools can be hazardous places unless a certain amount of caution is exercised.  You can teach your children how to be careful, and keep playgrounds and pools safe recreational places.

I have been married a long time – forty-six years. And I have been married all this time to the same woman. Is this an accomplishment? Am I an authority on marriage? I think not. What I am an authority on is my marriage. Even so, I doubt I am aware of all the elements in our relationship, of the changes we have undergone, of the compromises we have made, and of our achievements as a married couple. It may seem strange to use the word “achievement.” However, marriage is a relationship that can foster and facilitate growth in a number of areas personal developments, familial development, the development of a home. This is what I have in mind when I refer to the achievements of marriage.

Love is an important aspect of marriage, but it ordinarily is not an achievement except in arranged marriages or marriages of convenience or financial gain. Love usually is, and certainly was for me, a condition for marriage. I won’t try to define love. I know I was in love with my wife and she was in love with me. We still are in love with each other, although the form has changed. When we first fell in love, I had a difficult time restraining myself from kissing and fondling her whenever we were together, and we always wanted to be together. Indeed, that’s why I married her-so we always could be together. These days the impulse to kiss and fondle her is more restrainable, but it’s still there. I suppose someone might say that it was not love in those early days, it was sexual attraction. There was a strong element of sexual attraction in our relationship. However, I have been sexually attracted to women without being in love with them.

We had a lot going for us when we got married. We shared a great many interests-some major, some minor, and all contributing to compatibility. We were both deeply interested in the same professional area. We enjoyed travel and sports. We both loved the theater and had similar reactions to movies, with my wife leaning a bit more to the refined and interpersonally sensitive and I leaning more to the shoot-tern-ups. Despite this bit of sex-typing, our tastes were (and remain) more often similar than different. Of course, we loved children and wanted to have a family.

A related compatibility that was not a factor in our courtship but was a positive factor in the marriage was my wife’s interest and skill in cooking and my zest and delight in eating the meals she prepared. I had no idea my bride-to-be was such a wonderful cook. Today we both enjoy dining in fine restaurants, another factor undoubtedly contributing to the longevity of our marriage (although probably not to our individual longevities). However, this was not an initial element in our courtship, since we could not afford fine restaurants. In addition, although I was aware of her beauty, intelligence, and sensitivity, I had little idea of (and, at the time, probably would not have been able to appreciate) the aesthetic sensibilities she would show in decorating our home and looking attractive in inexpensive clothes (all we could afford during the first ten years).

We also began our marriage with some impediments. Our respective families, although loving, were largely sources of problems rather than sources of support. A more fundamental difficulty was our youth and immaturity. I was unable to acknowledge that needs were not being satisfied because we lacked financial resources and my spouse was reluctant to express even modest wants. My view of life required behaving as a good soldier to overcome barriers and frustrations. This, coupled with my self-righteousness, defeated communication and led to spats, emotional outbursts, and a broken record of negative interactions played out in a variety of settings. We sought marriage counseling and individual therapy and finally separated after almost thirty years of marriage. My wife initiated the separation. She took a particularly courageous step in leaving the house, in view of her attachment to home and discomfort with social isolation.

The separation was a shock for me and for her and led to personal growth experiences for both of us. She became more conscious of her needs and better able to effectively articulate them. The impregnable steel shell that made me impervious to some messages, while not shattered, became at least porous. We reconciled after six months.

It took hard work and pain to break down barriers, deepen our understanding of each other, accept our respective failings, and broaden our consciousness. This personal development constitutes for me an important achievement of our marriage. One of the challenges of marriage is for spouses to develop a shared commitment and orientation without sacrificing each other’s individuality. Also, for a marriage to work, one partner cannot grow while the other remains suspended in a never changing time warp of habits and biases.

The creation of a caring, interconnected family is another achievement of our marriage. We are fortunate in having thoughtful and accomplished children who are each creating their own families. A third achievement is a home we enjoy and that serves as a sanctuary and place of support as well as a place for entertaining family and friends. A fourth achievement is a network of friends whom we both care for and enjoy.

I think our marriage illustrates in many ways the gratifications afforded and dilemmas posed by the institution of marriage in our contemporary society. The betrothed are typically two individuals who have only superficial knowledge of each other (although they may believe otherwise) and who, while relatively young, make a lifetime commitment to share a home, raise a family, and remain together. They will have little control over most of the pressures, demands, and problems that life experiences inevitably pose.

In addition to coping with unpredictable events in the external world, the spouses need to adjust to each other’s idiosyncrasies as they interact daily and as they change. Hopefully the partner will further develop, deepen, and expand their interests and sensibilities.

The marriage that allows for the gratification and support provided by sharing plus personal growth and development for each partner is the marriage we should all strive for. Reaching that goal takes constant work. And work on the part of the marital partners is what is required to make a marriage truly work.

Young children like to examine just about everything with their mouths.  This tendency can lead to problems-poisoning, choking, and swallowing dangerous objects.

Objects placed in the mouth may find their way down one or two passageways.  If something starts to go down your child’s trachea [airway] toward the lungs, she will begin to choke and will need help immediately.  If the object starts to move down the esophagus [food tube] toward the stomach and gets stuck, she will probably not choke [unless the object is so large that it also presses against the trachea], but she will have problems swallowing.  She may drool because she can’t swallow her saliva.  An object lodged in the esophagus must be removed by a doctor.

Once an object gets in your child’s stomach, the immediate danger is over.  Most small objects [like coins, marbles, paperclips, and even sharp objects like pins and small pieces of glass] will usually pass through the digestive system without problems.  Occasionally, something will cause an obstruction of the digestive tract or penetrate a segment of intestine.  Abdominal pain, vomiting, and fever may develop.  It may be a few days after she swallowed the object before the symptoms begin.  She needs to be seen by her doctor.  X-ray films will be taken.  Metal objects and many glass, plastic, and wooden objects may be visualized.  X-ray films may also show other problems, such as increased abdominal gas, or a perforation of the intestines.

To be sure that the swallowed object has passed through, you should check your child’s bowel movements.  Each bowel movement must be passed through a sieve.  If the child has been potty trained, place a basin fashioned of window screening in the toilet bowl.  Then, after the child has passed a stool, wash it through the screening with hot water.

Some objects may cause stretching of your child’s rectum, and a little bleeding.

There are no medicines, foods, or drinks that speed up the passage of swallowed objects.  Some doctors recommend eating foods that increase the size of your child’s stool, such as roughage, in an attempt to ease the passing of the swallowed object.

Swallowed Objects Symptoms

• If the object went into your child’s stomach, there may be no symptoms
• Inability to breathe or cry
• Gagging or choking
• Pain in his throat or chest

Difficulty Swallowing

• Abdominal pain
• Vomiting

Treatment

• If your child is choking, follow steps for choking
• If your child is in pain, seek immediate medical help

Your father is so kind, so gentle. As I write this you’re snuggled in his arms waiting for King Kong or Godzilla to come on the video screen. These nights are perfect.

If I go downstairs I might feel hassled. It’s a mess. I cleaned several times today and it’s still a mess. It’s my job to do most of the cleaning up. That’s because I’m home-so I can be with you when you need me. It’s taken me a few years to get used to doing the household stuff and to realize that your father does a host of things he doesn’t want to do at his job.

My parents-your grandparents-encouraged me to get married. They said they just didn’t want me to be alone. I didn’t know what they meant. I had them, good friends, lots of interests. I was full, and though I hoped I would have somebody to love in my life, I didn’t really know, or care, how much better things could be.

My daddy died before your father and I got married.

Your father asked for permission to marry me when my daddy was so sick he could barely speak. He nodded yes and my mom was so happy she hugged me. Then my daddy died and your father and I got married. My mom went a little crazy. She seemed very angry with me. I think it was because suddenly everything had changed. Now I was married and she wasn’t. She married again and I felt Daddy’s presence around me a lot, so everything was fine.

We found out we were going to have a baby. I was happy but scared because I didn’t know if there would be enough love and time for all three of us. The love was no problem. The time was. We needed time as a family, as a couple, and each of us (except you) needed to be alone. It took about a year to figure out how to juggle all of this. We still don’t always find the time we need.

When you were born, I was happier than I’d ever been. You were everything then that you are now sweet, alert, inquisitive, and funny (and we’d only just met). One week later my mom was in a coma and we knew she’d die soon. She was old and had lived a pretty good life, but I felt as if I was no longer standing on the ground.

I became terribly worried about your safety. It was hard for me to trust anybody, even your father, to take care of you. I was so shaken it took me a long time to see how good he was with you. The love between your father and me continues to grow. He tries to help me fulfill my dreams. I try to help him with his. He can get me to laugh when I’m crying.

You, my big three-and-a-half-year-old, told me yesterday you want to marry me. Of course, this desire is natural at your age, but I’ll let it mean, too, that you know how deeply satisfying being married is. I love you.

Mommy

I sit in the restaurant of our favorite museum in
Europe. It is a time of reflection for me and I feel inspired to write. I miss you and I love you.

This is my first trip alone since our marriage, but this trip is different. An old friend is ill and called for help, for me to come and visit. Because you know I love you and am committed to you, you let me go. In between periods of long conversations and intimate discussions, I sightsee. I go to the museums and visit the historic buildings. It is absolutely not the same as doing these things with you.

All of this leads me to think about why it is so wonderful to travel together. We go to have a good time, take a break, learn, and experience. Generally we accomplish all of these ends. Moreover, we always enjoy each other’s company and deepen our knowledge of each other. You laugh at me for my elaborate preparations but you enjoy knowing you are cared for. Still, the most important part of traveling together is that we have plain, old-fashioned fun, the warm, constant, having-a-good-time kind of fun. I enjoy having you by my side. I enjoy your presence, your being, kindness, gentleness, humor.

Each of us cares that the other is having a good time, and we share. Together we decide what we most want to see. Then we discover what moves and inspires us. We work in tandem. You drive and I navigate. I plan, you approve and help to execute. And then we have our debriefings. What have you most enjoyed today? What have been the highlights of the trip so far for you? You are delight-able and your delight helps mine blossom.

Yes, sometimes things do not go smoothly.

Sometimes we upset each other the way we might at home, yet you are committed to settling our disagreements so we can get back to enjoying each other’s company. And when external circumstances cause part of a trip to be less than excellent, we do not diminish our own good times.

On Sunday my friend was tired and I spent the late afternoon alone and had dinner by myself. Had I been with you, we would have eaten together. We would have taken a long walk to the restaurant. Alone I was hesitant to do so. The streets were deserted and not inviting for a solitary walk. When we are together we make empty streets interesting. We comment on how the smallest urban details help to illuminate a culture. Alone I note them, but without you to share these observations, my delight and interest in what I see is diminished.

So I miss you now. Traveling together is giving and sharing. I will see you soon. I cannot wait.

The following case shows very clearly the mechanisms and the expressions of competition between children.

Nine-year-old Billy was such a wonderful little boy. He had lost his father four years ago, and he managed to be a great solace and help to his mother. Very early he assisted her not only in housework, but also in taking care of six-year-old Marilyn. Even at his tender age, Mother could discuss any problem with him, and he actually assumed the function of the “man of the family.” The only point where Billy did not do so well was at school. He had few friends and was not very much interested in school work. That is not surprising when we consider that in school Billy could not have the extraordinary position which he enjoyed at home.

One can easily imagine the type of girl Marilyn was. She was so unruly that Mother did not know what to do with her any longer and asked for help. She was untidy, unreliable, noisy, disturbing, and annoying-a real “brat.” Mother could not understand how in the entire world the two children could be so different! It was hard for her to understand the connection between Billy’s goodness and Marilyn’s difficulties.

We had the following discussion with both children together.

First, we asked Marilyn whether she thought Mother liked her. Her answer was, as could be expected, a shaking of the head. Then we explained to her that we were sure that Mother loved her very much but that because she, Marilyn, did not believe it, she acted in such a way as to make Mother constantly angry at her. As a consequence, Mother paid attention to her only when she misbehaved (destructive attention-getting mechanism) and that made her feel still more disliked. If she would try to behave differently, she would find out that Mother loved her, too.

This discussion took place in the presence of Billy. Then we asked him whether he wanted Marilyn to be a good and nice girl. He immediately shouted, “No!” We asked him why he didn’t want it. He became embarrassed, groped for some answers, and finally said, “She won’t be good, anyhow.” Then we explained to him that maybe we could help her and he could help her, too, and so we might succeed in making her a good girl. Would he like it? Somewhat uncertainly, he said, yes, he would like it. I looked at him and told him, frankly, I didn’t believe that he meant it seriously; I was sure that his first “no” was more sincere and accurate. But why didn’t he want her to be good? Perhaps he could tell me. He was thoughtful for a while. And then he came out- “Because I want to be better.”

Once the competition between the first and second child is established, a third child may be adopted as an ally by either the first or the second. Only rarely does the third compete with both, forcing the first and second into an alliance with each other-a situation which may occur, for example, if the older two are girls and the youngest a boy. The fourth one can side with any of the older children, according to circumstances. Whichever way the division of forces has been aligned can be recognized easily by each child’s subsequent character development. The two siblings most different in their qualities, interests, or emotions are those who as children were competitors. This fact reveals where within the family lie the battlefronts, the recognition of which is necessary for the understanding of any child.

This family interaction, which puts each child in a characteristic “family constellation” as Adler 3 calls it, is more important for the development of personality and character than any other single factor such as inheritance. Here is an example:

Father, mother, and six children make up the family. The competition originated in the relationship of a “superior,” domineering father, interested in politics and literature, and the mother, a typical housewife, compensating for her social and intellectual inadequacy by domestic dominance over the children. The first child, Sally, a daughter, is played by her father against the mother. The mother finds an ally in her second daughter, Beatrice. Sally is a good student, but despises housework and is in constant opposition to her mother. Beatrice is very much interested in housework, a very mediocre student, and much interested in her feminine appeal.

A few years later identical twin girls are born. Their physical similarity necessitates their wearing different-colored stockings and ribbons to facilitate recognition. Identical twins generally have a peculiar psychological relationship. They identify themselves with each other to such a degree that very often they regard themselves as only a half of one, frequently developing identical life styles which then bring an amazing similarity in their fortunes.

In our case, however, something rather unusual happened.

The strong competition between the two older sisters caused a division between the twins. One, Ruth, who was, incidentally, the senior by thirteen minutes, was claimed by Sally as an ally, while Beatrice sided with the “younger” twin, Diana. As a consequence, Ruth developed like Sally into a good student and bad housekeeper, while Diana, like Beatrice, became a mediocre student, good housekeeper, and much interested in her appearance. The third couple of children were a boy and a girl. The boy, Tom, was not only again the “older” of the two, but also, as a boy, desirous of special superiority.

The whole family was split into two groups-in characters, in interests, and behavior: Father, Sally, Ruth, and the boy against Mother, Beatrice, Diana, and the baby girl. Tom, with the support of his oldest sister and father, challenged the superiority of even his much older sister, Beatrice, trying to bully her. The twin Ruth excluded Diana from her own relationship with girls, and refused to take her with them because she was “too young” (thirteen minutes younger!). Friction, discord, and mutual suffering made miserable the life of these otherwise capable and pleasant human beings.